


Prompt #26 (90-Prompt Challenge)

by GlitterBombLove



Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [26]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Flash Fic, Prompt Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBombLove/pseuds/GlitterBombLove
Summary: Prompt #26January 13, 2021Genre: Fantasy / DystopianPrompt Idea: Continuation of Prompt #6 / Jester KingSource: Original*Full text appears under Prompt #6*
Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052597





	Prompt #26 (90-Prompt Challenge)

I don't remember our father. My brother said father left us when mother told him she was having another baby -- so he was gone before I was born. It's rare Aylan reminisces about our father. Aylan doesn't like to talk about him. He was six years old when father left us behind. He has memories but he's so cheap about sharing them. 

I have no memories. But I grew up always knowing about our father. I rely on my mother and brother for what I know about our father. 

His presence is still in our home. My mother was able to save a few even after The Great Departure. My brother said one day our father just ... snapped. He came home and ransacked everything. Aylan describes it like a nervous breakdown. Our father raged and shattered, tore, broke and burned all traces of himself and us as a family. He left us for good.

There were some traces left behind. Our mother scatters them throughout the house and my brother hates it. She always tells stories -- the same stories-- over and over and over again. She's mounted above the fireplace. She arranged table and chairs to face the fireplace and pictures. We sit and eat -- side by side each night -- facing warm fires and reliving the past. There are pictures of our father - grinning and handsome - hugging our mother. One picture has him dressed up as a Jester and our mother a beautiful princess for a production in their theatre troupe. Our father said the Jester King was his favorite play, he ever played -- one reason because he met and fell in love with our mother during the production. 

We eat dinner like that each night. Occasionally my brother and mother have the same argument. 

"Blast him!" Aylan would protest when he could not control his temper any longer. "What has he ever done for us? He left us behind to struggle and starve. When we went begging at the palace last year, we could not get passed the guards at the gates. Our father did not even want to see us. He denies he even knows us and sent us away when we begged him for help. Why do we have to still have his pictures here?"

"Because he's still your father. And the truth never changes," our mother answered softly, her voice gentle and eyes cast dreamy on the pictures. Her eyes would mist sometimes. She loved him after all these years.


End file.
